The blade stopped a finger's width from his throat, pinned between his two palms in a silent clap.
He felt the cold before he felt anything else, a hungry chill that drank the warmth out of his hands. The floor warned him first, a faint flex of weight behind his ear, then Juna's terror slammed down the bond.
Above the blade, Merel's blind face tilted toward him, lips parting in plain astonishment.
Eyes bright in the dark, he mouthed, "Surprise."
Hush felt like gripping a winter river, a current of cold that wanted to pull the feeling out of him. He held on anyway, baring his teeth, because he somehow knew letting go meant losing his whole voice for good.
Through his teeth he whispered, "Not letting go yet."
Merel tore the blade free and slid backward into the dark, leaving his palms numb to the wrist. Somewhere beyond the dark, Juna felt every sting of it, the bond carrying the cost back to her.
'Sorry, Mutt, hang on a little longer.'
